Mrs Jonathan Prothero came noiselessly into the room, bringing in a shaded night light, and anxious to bear some intelligence to the watchers downstairs. Her step, light as it was, awoke Gladys. She started up, and looking on her mistress, clasped her hands, and fervently thanked G.o.d.
"She is sleeping as calmly as a child," she said. "I am sure the worst is past."
Mrs Jonathan went out to tell the good news, and to beg the brothers to go to bed, which they did, after some demur. Gladys and Rowland watched on for about an hour longer, when Mrs Prothero opened her eyes and fixed them upon Rowland. She smiled as if she knew him, and when he bent over her and kissed her, murmured some faint words which he could not understand.
Gladys gave her some jelly which she swallowed, and soon afterwards she slept again.
"The crisis is over, she will recover, I hope, Mr Rowland," said Gladys.
"You can go to bed, sir--you had better. The mistress will want you to-morrow, and you can be of no use to-night."
Rowland felt the force of this, and again kissing his mother"s forehead, and shaking Gladys by the hand, he went downstairs to Owen, who he found asleep on the sofa in the parlour. Supper was awaiting him, and Owen and he were soon seated over the fire, discussing their mother"s illness and Netta"s conduct.
They had not met for three or four years, and there was much to say. Few brothers loved one another more tenderly than they did, despite the dissimilarity of habits, tastes, and occupations, and when they were together, all the secrets of their hearts were usually unfolded.
Although Owen"s wild roving nature had caused Rowland much anxiety, still he had perfect confidence in his honest, open character. Owing to early education Owen was not deficient in general acquirements. He knew a little Latin and Greek, and could read, write, and cypher well. Added to this, his knowledge of foreign lands was great, and of men and manners greater. Under a careless exterior, he had a considerable portion of talent and information, and Rowland was delighted to find in his sea-faring, roystering brother, a much more cultivated and sensible mind than he had expected. Rowland was beginning to be conscious of wishing to see all his family superior to what they were. Placed by his own profession amongst gentle-folks, and feeling in himself all the refinement of the cla.s.s so called, he was often annoyed and pained to be differently situated from those who were nearest and dearest to him. He knew that in London he was received as an equal by men and women of rank and position, as well as by those of talent and learning; whereas, in the country, even Miss Gwynne, at whose house he visited, considered it a condescension to speak to him, whilst she looked upon those who belonged to him as people of another sphere. In spite of all his prayers for humility, and his striving after pure Christianity, Rowland was, and knew that he was a proud man, and all the prouder because his original station was beneath his present one. He felt that he must be humbled before he could be the pastor and disciple of One whose whole life was a lesson of humility. But the world knew nothing of this. He walked before it, and through it as a bright example of a young clergyman devoted to his work. Neither was he less devoted to his mother, dutiful to his father, or loving to his brother, because they were good, honest, plain farmers, and he a clergyman; or which was, perhaps, more to the point, because Miss Gwynne could not, or would not separate him from his family.
When he and his brother and sister were children, they were constantly at the vicarage with their uncle and aunt, and Miss Gwynne was their playmate there, and had not known their inferiority. Now that he really was a man of education and a gentleman, in spite of all her kindness to his mother, she knew it full well. Why did he never consider what any one else in his own neighbourhood thought of him or his family? It was only Miss Gwynne--always Miss Gwynne.
Early the following morning that young lady came to inquire for Mrs Prothero, accompanied by Miss Hall. It was Rowland who gave them the joyful intelligence that his mother had had a good night, and was much more quiet. The real pleasure that shone from Miss Gwynne"s intelligent and intelligible eyes, showed Rowland how fond she was of his mother.
"And now," she said, "Miss Hall and I are come, resolutely bent on remaining with your mother, whilst your aunt and Gladys go to bed. We are quite determined, and you know I always have my way."
Rowland bowed, smiled, and called his aunt, who, after some hesitation consented, and went upstairs to request Gladys to do the same, but Gladys was inexorable until Mr Prothero came in, and in his most decided manner insisted on her taking some rest. Mrs Prothero also murmured a "Go, Gladys fach!" and she kissed the dear cheek and went at once.
Mr Prothero took her place. He was alone with his wife, and the rough, loud man became gentle as one of his own lambs, as he bent over her and thanked G.o.d that she was better. A big tear fell from his eyes on her face, and he made an inward vow, that if her life were spared, he would never again say a cross word to her as long as he lived.
She felt the tear, heard the kind words, and seemed to understand the vow, for she looked at him tenderly, and said in her low, weak voice, "G.o.d bless you, David!"
From that moment he went out to his work with a lightened heart; the labourers read the good news that their mistress was better in his face, and heard it in his voice. Even Netta"s disobedience was forgotten, if not forgiven, in the joy of feeling that the partner of more than half his life was likely to recover. And by degrees she did recover. That is to say, before Rowland was obliged again to leave her, she was able to go down into the parlour and sit at her work, "quite like a lady," as she expressed it. And even out of the evil of such an illness good had sprung. It had aroused all the sympathy and kind feeling of relatives, friends, and neighbours; but especially had it been beneficial in bringing out the womanly kindness that lay hid under the stiffness of pride in Mrs Jonathan Prothero, and in opening the hearts of the sisters-in-law towards each other. Mrs Jonathan forgot her cousin, Sir Philip Payne Perry, and helped to nurse, and learned to love her humbler connection, whilst the ever-ready tenderness of the simple farmer"s wife, sprung up to respond to it like a stream leaping in the sunlight.
Gladys, too, reaped the reward of her devotion, in the increased kindness of Mr Prothero, who began to forget the Irish beggar in the gentle girl whose care, under G.o.d, had saved his wife"s life; and so, as is usually the case, affliction had not come from the ground, but had fallen like a softening dew upon the irritated feelings of the afflicted, and bound heart still nearer to heart.
Perhaps in the younger and more impetuous natures it had done almost too much. Thoughtless of consequences, they had all worked to save a life, valuable to so many. Rowland, Owen, Miss Gwynne, Miss Hall, Gladys, had been thrown together at a time when the formalities of the world and the distinctions of rank are forgotten, and the tear of sympathy, the word of friendly comfort, or the pressure of the hand of kindly feeling are given and taken, without a thought of giver or receiver. But they are remembered, and dwelt upon in after years as pa.s.sages in life"s history never to be obliterated--never to be forgotten.
CHAPTER XX.
THE HEIRESS.
Glanyravon Park lay, as we have said, in the parish of which Mr Jonathan Prothero was vicar, but as the parish and park were large, the house was three or four miles from the church; and it was on account of this distance of Glanyravon and its dependencies from church and school, that Miss Gwynne had induced her father to build the school-house, of which mention has been already made, since there was a large school in the village for such children as were within its reach. She would have had him build a small church also, and endow it, to remove all excuse, as she said, from the chapel-goers; but this was an undertaking too mighty for him. However, the school flourished wonderfully, both on week days and Sundays, and Miss Gwynne always filled every corner of an omnibus in which the servants went to church with such of the children as could not walk so far. Miss Hall was an admirable a.s.sistant to the school-mistress during the week; and Gladys, with Mrs Prothero"s permission, undertook the Sunday duty for the mistress, in order that she might have a holiday on that day. Miss Gwynne also attended, but she was too impatient and imperious to be a good teacher, much as she wished to be one.
Miss Gwynne had great ideas of doing good; grand schemes that she tried to carry out, but in which she often failed. Nevertheless, she did a great deal of good in her own peculiar way.
She had been reading of the "harvest homes" that they were endeavouring to revive in England, and had induced her father to have one in the park. Happily, the day fixed for this general rejoicing was during Mrs Prothero"s convalescence, and before Rowland"s return to London, so that most of the members of the Prothero family could be present. They also yielded to Miss Gwynne"s ready a.s.sistance in such preparations as she made, and were the instruments in surprising her and her father by some tasteful decorations in their honour, unknown to them. Owen and Gladys worked very hard at floral and evergreen mottoes for the tent, whilst Rowland gave his advice as he sat with his mother, and tried to amuse her during the tedium of her recovery.
A few hours before the general gathering, a messenger arrived at the Park in great haste, bearing a note to Miss Gwynne, containing the information that the vicar had sprained his ankle just as he was going to set out for Glanyravon, and was unable to move. There was another note for Rowland, which was to be carried on to the farm, requesting him to supply his uncle"s place.
Miss Gwynne was greatly annoyed; wished that the vicar would not go wandering about after old stones, as she was sure he had done; knew that Rowland would never be able to manage and was very sorry she had attempted the treat at all.
Whilst she was still grumbling, and Miss Hall laughing and consoling, Rowland arrived. This was his first visit to the Park since he had been in the country, and Mr Gwynne was delighted to see him. He perceived at once that Miss Gwynne"s equanimity was disturbed; and said that he was very sorry to come as a subst.i.tute for his uncle, but that he would do his best. His manner was so quiet and composed, and he seemed so little alarmed by the honours thrust upon him, that Miss Gwynne gradually became rea.s.sured.
In less than half-an-hour she told Miss Hall that he was worth a hundred of the vicar, and that after all the sprained ankle was rather a fortunate accident.
At about two o"clock the guests began to a.s.semble at the school-house, over the door of which was the motto in dahlias on a ground of evergreens, "Welcome for all," which had been arranged by Miss Hall. The school-room was very tastefully decorated by the mistress, Gladys, and the children; and the motto, "Long Live Miss Gwynne," was very apparent in scarlet letters amongst a crown of laurels.
All the children and their teachers were a.s.sembled here, and a great many of their relations, also most of the farmers and their families. In addition, there were Mr and Miss Gwynne, Miss Hall, Lady Mary and Miss Nugent, Colonel Vaughan, who was staying at the Park, Sir Hugh Pryse, Mrs Jonathan Prothero, who left her husband at his particular request, and Rowland. No one out of the precincts of the Park had been invited, and as it was, there was a goodly number.
As there was no church near enough for them to go to, Rowland read the evening service in the school-room; after this he gave out one of the hymns for harvest, and led the youthful band in singing it. His fine clear voice seemed to give the children courage, especially when a beautiful full treble joined, to which they were evidently accustomed.
It was impossible not to try to discover from whom those sweet notes proceeded, and one by one everybody looked at Gladys, who had a magnificent voice; she, however, was unconscious of observation, for her eyes were fixed on her hymn-book that she was sharing with a small child.
It must be acknowledged that she not unfrequently distracted the attention of many a young man from his hymn-book on Sunday, when at church; and on the present occasion, what with the face and the voice, more than one pair of eyes were fixed on her. Owen, I am sorry to say, looked more attentively at her than at his book; and, as to Colonel Vaughan, he never took his eyes off her face, and was heard to whisper the question of "Who is that girl?" to Lady Mary Nugent.
When the hymn was sung, Rowland stood behind the high desk of the mistress, and gave a short lecture on the words, "Thou crownest the year with thy goodness." Rowland was not ungifted with the talent for extempore preaching, common to so many of his countrymen, and therewith possessed, in general, much self-possession; on the present occasion, it must be confessed that he felt unusually nervous, still he commanded himself and his feelings, and by degrees, forgetting them and his hearers, in his subject, warmed into a natural flow of eloquence that somewhat astonished his congregation, and entirely gained their attention.
Beneath a quiet exterior Rowland hid a romantic and poetic mind, which few, if any of his friends knew anything about; for he had never shown his poetry to them, and never attempted to publish it. But it sometimes appeared, in spite of his efforts to repress it, in his sermons; and now it made a desperate effort to burst forth, and conquered.
There was so much to excite the enthusiasm of a young preacher in that harvest-home gathering--in the mows of golden corn heaped up against the future--in the splendid autumn weather they were then enjoying--in the bright sunshine and many-hued leaves of the changing trees--and the goodness of G.o.d crowning the whole!
I am not going through his sermon, for I should only mar what his feelings made powerful. Suffice it to say that some of his friends had tears in their eyes as he preached; others, according to the custom of their country, uttered occasional exclamations of approval as he went on, and some were glad to own him as their near and dear relation.
Perhaps the proudest moment of the farmer"s life was when Mr Gwynne went up to him after that short discourse, and shook him by the hand, with the words--emphatic words for him--
"Well, Prothero, I congratulate you upon your son. You have reason to be proud of him. He managed his sermon well at a short notice, clear, poetical, etc., and all that sort of thing."
The abrupt termination to the speech was occasioned by the approach of Lady Mary Nugent, who also congratulated Mr Prothero.
"Thank you, sir; thank your ladyship; glad you approve," was all the proud father could say, with the tears in his eyes all the while.
As to Rowland, he was undergoing an ovation of hand-shakings and praises from everybody present, which he was fain to put an end to, by beginning to organise the procession to the tent. One simple sentence, however, rang in his ears for the remainder of that day.
"Thank you, Mr Rowland, for your sermon. I hope you have done us all good," said Miss Gwynne.
She began to think more highly of him than she had ever thought before, and owned to Miss Hall that he had words at command, and that at a short notice.
The procession was very pretty. The school-children walked two and two, and looked like so many large scarlet poppies, as they wended their way through the avenue. Miss Gwynne gave them all their outer garments, and it was her picturesque and pleasing fancy to keep to the national costume; so they had high-crowned black beaver hats, scarlet cloaks with hoods, striped linsey frocks, and woollen ap.r.o.ns. They carried a due amount of little flags with appropriate mottoes, and some few of the Glanyravon musicians formed a band for the occasion, and played cheerily, "The March of the Men of Harlech."
Mr Prothero and his son Owen headed the tenantry, and carried between them a magnificent banner, fashioned at the farm, bearing as motto, "Prosperity to Glanyravon." Others followed with appropriate Welsh mottoes. And one was conspicuous as containing the sentiment, "Long live our Vicar and his Lady."
A large tent was erected in front of the house, ornamented with flowers, wreaths of evergreens, devices, and mottoes. The most conspicuous of these was in Welsh, and above Mr Gwynne"s seat at the head of the long table. It was composed of wheat-ears and oak-leaves, and contained the words, "May G.o.d bless Gwynne of Glanyravon and his daughter." Mr Gwynne felt almost uncomfortable in seating himself beneath such a sentence, but having consented for the first time in his life, and, he earnestly hoped, for the last, to become a hero, he knew he must go through with it. Accordingly, with Colonel Vaughan on his left, and Lady Mary Nugent on his right hand he prepared to do the honours of a most substantial feast to his tenantry, their wives and children. When every one was seated Rowland said grace, and they began the feast _con amore_. They were as merry and happy a party as could be a.s.sembled on a fine autumn day. Every one was in good humour, and thoroughly enjoyed the treat. As soon as they had feasted enough, they proceeded to give toasts, which were enthusiastically drunk in good Welsh ale.
Mr Gwynne proposed the health of the Queen and royal family. Sir Hugh proposed Mr Gwynne and his daughter, the kind and liberal donors of the feast, in a hearty speech, which all understood. Mr Gwynne did his best to return thanks, but found that he could not get much beyond,--"I feel most grateful for the honour you have done me, but--my feelings--been--and--and--all that sort of thing," at which point the cheers grew so deafening that he sat down quite overwhelmed, and wished himself in his library.
"So very exciting, so complimentary, so touching," whispered Lady Mary Nugent to Mr Gwynne.
Rowland was again called upon to exert his eloquence in responding for the Church, which he did in a short, apt speech, duly applauded.